January 14, 2009
Dear Friends Who Might Still Speak to Me,
I didn’t intend to vanish. But what with my mother’s illness and death in 2004, a very difficult job trying to keep the country on the right side of sanity, and this blasted rheumatoid arthritis, I’m afraid I’ve lost touch with many of you. I turned 65 on March 23, retired on March 31, and am now working as a freelance writer. I’m also mainstreaming myself back into civilized society and trying to reconnect with old friends.
Retirement (or perhaps “semi-retirement”) is good. My colleagues threw a grand retirement party for me at the end of March, I got my left hip replaced in April, and Anne Mathews’ 94 year old mother and 95 year old father moved in with me for May and June while the elevator in their building was being repaired. It was a productive two months. We all got our hearing aids tuned up, Jim got his pacemaker adjusted, and Eunice got their car fixed and cataract surgery in both eyes. Aging is not for sissies! Jim and Eunice are the people who led our 2000 trip to India, so we had various Indians and clergy people visit at one point or another. They’re very dear people, and it actually turned out to be a lot of fun.
In July, I visited relatives in Tennessee for a week, then went to Boston for three weeks and fell in love with New England all over again. I was all set to move into a retirement community where a couple of friends live. It’s on the grounds of Lasell College, and residents are required to get 450 hours of professional, volunteer, educational, and/or physical activity every year. You can take courses free at the college, which is perfect for those of us who still think we’re students. The stock market crash has derailed those plans for now, but I hope to get them back on track in the not-too-distant future. It’s very expensive for a single person, but for a couple who have had two pretty good incomes, it is affordable. So…I’m looking for a roommate!
Back home in September, I volunteered for the Obama campaign. I was a wreck before the election. Friends told me he would win by a landside, but I always replied, “You didn’t grow up in the segregated South.” I celebrated with Suzanne and Bill, my friends of 40-some years, the night of the election. Suzanne had received an award from the Virginia Democratic Committee for her grass-roots efforts. I feel maternal toward Obama and so much want him to succeed. He was born the year I graduated from high school and entered the University of Tennessee. It was the first year the undergraduate school was integrated. I’m embarrassed to say that my only act in support of the Civil Rights movement (other than being friendly with the young black woman named “Davis” whom I stood next to in gym) was to leave Bierley’s Restaurant when I saw black students being turned away. I was a frightened kid who just wanted to make good grades and not have to go back to Chattanooga. Thank heavens there were many people more courageous than I!
I spent Christmas in Arlington, MA with Susan, Dick, Nicolas, and Lucy. I’m sorry I didn’t get to see many of you, but I stuck pretty close to home. I didn’t rent a car, and though Susan and Dick willingly drove me places, I was terrified of walking on ice. I will be up in the summer, however, and hope to see you then. And who knows, maybe I will somehow manage to move back North one of these days?!?
I’m looking forward to a trip to Costa Rica with John Miner in February. He and I spent two wonderful weeks in France in 2006. I had gotten both knees replaced in 2005, and I was able to climb all the way to the top of Mont Saint Michel. John was intent on speaking French and was generally successful except for the time he tried to complement the chambermaid on her pretty fingernails but told her she had “pretty talons” instead. We drove into Quimper, Brittany one Saturday evening without hotel reservations. We couldn’t find a place but spotted a sign for “Restau des Vins.” “With a name like that, they’re bound to help us,” each of us thought. And they did. The hefty owner, straight out of central casting, called around and found us a room. Once we heard him say, “Oui. They look respectable.” We got lost en route to the hotel, returned to the restaurant, and the owner led us in his funny little yellow car on a French Connection chase, over hills, around rotaries, up and down, with me laughing and John cursing like a sailor. I don’t regret a penny I’ve ever spent on travel!
I hope you are well and happy and that 2009 brings good fortune to you and hope to the world. My e-mail is [email protected], my phone is xxxxxxxxxxxx, and my address is xxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxx xx xxxx xxx xxx xxxxx. I would really like to hear from you!
Much love,
Nancy
